


God of War

by dancingknives



Category: Blood of Zeus (Cartoon)
Genre: Brotherhood, Family Dynamics, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:27:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709727
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dancingknives/pseuds/dancingknives
Summary: Ares-centric, a look at his motivations and relationships as war consumes them all
Comments: 3
Kudos: 69





	God of War

“What happened?” Apollo asked Ares. Along with Hermes the three of them had stayed in the coliseum while the other gods and demigods slowly filtered out, perturbed by the presence of an angry Zeus & Hera.

Ares just sighed, “can you not guess?”

Apollo frowned and was about to remark when Hermes quickly interjected, “Father slept with someone, Hera has found out. Presumably there is also a child?”

Ares just nodded.

Apollo rolled his eyes, “you’d think she’d learn by now.”

Ares nostrils’ flared as he glared at his brother, “why do you say that about her and not about him?”

Apollo shrugged, “this is what he’s always done. He changed himself into a bird, to basically force Hera into marriage. We gods don’t change. We’re primordial forces, it’s not in our nature to change.”

Ares growled dangerously, “then if it is in mother’s nature to be an honorable wife why would she learn otherwise.”

Apollo nodded in agreement, “she wouldn’t. You misunderstand me. I am not saying she should stop being a loyal wife. I’m saying she should stop trying with Father. There’s nothing wrong with dissolving their marriage, and then she can find someone whose nature it is to be as loyal as she is.”

“Is it not in her nature to stay in love, while he only thinks with cock and balls?” Ares taunted. Hermes laughed at that. The three of them started walking off as well. A faint glow of silver in the distance signaled that Artemis had taken her chariot and begun her nighttime ride across the sky. Apollo followed her trail fondly.

“Love isn’t her nature,” he said, “that’s Aphrodite. Marriage is Hera. And believe me, brother, sometimes, love just isn’t enough.”

There’s a sad note to the end of that sentence. Ares wondered briefly if Apollo is thinking about any of his past lovers. But any number of them could fit the description, so he simply just grunted.

Hermes draped his arm around the god of war’s shoulders, “Apollo always has to have the last word, you know.”

Apollo made a face at his annoying younger brother while Hermes just winked.

The youngest of the trio stopped for a moment, and looked up sadly, “I wonder how long it will be before they force us to take sides again.”

Ares retorted, “I envy the luxury of that choice, brother. Father has already threatened my silence multiple times, because everyone knows I would only ever side with Mother.”

Apollo agreed, “of course, no one begrudges you that, you are her only child who’s also a member of the Pantheon, she needs your strength, because Father can already count on most of the others.”

Ares looked at the two of them each in turn, “like the two of you, of course.”

Hermes whistled casually while Apollo just grinned apologetically.

Ares sighed, “of course, I am forever alone,” and resumed walking.

The other two catch up in a moment. “What about Aphrodite? She’d probably side with you and Hera,” Hermes pointed out.

Ares barked a laugh, “I wonder at times if she’s not more fickle than Father with her affection. Perhaps she is feeling keen on me at the moment. Or her husband, who will surely side with Father for how much he hates Mother.”

Apollo caught his arm just at the entrance to the coliseum, “I know I have said this before, but remember that just because I side with Father, doesn’t mean I side against you.”

Ares just nodded and continued through the entrance, heading up the steps to his temple alone. The other two watched him go.

Hermes scratched his head, “did you say that so this time he’ll beat me up first?”

* * *

“Mother,” Ares said curtly with a nod as he bent a knee.

“Ares,” she said gently, “the only one I can truly trust.” She leaned down and pulled him to his feet.

“I like this look by the way,” she said as she pursed her lips, “you almost look like Hades, and that’s a high compliment.”

Ares thinks back on Apollo’s words. True, it was, that Hera often complimented her eldest brother. And true, also, was it that his uncle was by far the most stable of the gods, never straying from his strict duty. He would imagine that his uncle would be loyal as a husband as well. But he was not Aphrodite. Love and courting were not his domain. So he just nodded.

Most of the gods feared her. On her best days, he believed she could rival Hades, Poseidon, and even Zeus. But he grew up under her wing. As a child he suckled at her breast and wrapped his chubby fingers around her long braids while she hummed and smiled fondly at him. She never turned him over to the care of a nursemaid or anyone else like that. It was always her.

On the contrary, his memories of Zeus were those one might hold of a distant relative bringing a gift when a celebration was to be had, not those of a parent. And as he grew older, he took on her burden as well, calming her down when her mind was wild with jealousy and concern each time Zeus would disappear for months at a time.

In those days, a storm would rage around her temple, and the other gods especially shied away (save Demeter, whom he held in fond regards as a favored aunt). He would always be there. Drawing her anger down into himself, as that was a part of his aspect and one he could bear infinitely, holding her hand so that she could fall asleep.

And while some days he failed and watched helplessly as she rained atrocities down on her victims, including the mothers of the brothers he’d come to love, because he bore witness to the depths of pain from which these horrors were birthed, he could not begrudge her ire.

He feared this was one of those moments. As he stood before her, looking into her eyes, he saw that dark rage. He took her hand and tried to draw it into his being.

Hera just chuckled, “nice try darling, but not this time.” She waves and his hand returns to his side of its own accord.

“This time, I want to play a little game,” she simply said. He knows better than to ask, lest Father tries to take the information by force from him later.

“I just need one simple thing from you,” she said, “keep the rest of the brood off my back.”

Ares nodded again as he clenched his fist.

* * *

Ares’ eyes narrowed as the footsteps appear behind her.

In another setting he may have scoffed in disbelief. Sometimes his little brother forgot that invisibility was a parlor trick any god could pull off with ease. Just because it was combined with his speed did not mean he actually could get away with anything. Like right now, Hermes hadn’t even sensed that the god of war was mere steps away, waiting for the perfect moment! There—now!

When Hermes finished brushing the cloud of sand away he immediately saw and then felt the crushing impact of Ares’ spiked hammer. In a moment he knew a few of his ribs had shattered. He struggled to right himself but then his brother landed on his back with another crushing blow, breaking his back in the process.

Ares barely notices that Hera has taken Hermes’ gauntlet, barely thinks that that may have been her goal all along. He loves the opportunity to show off his strength. Sometimes they allow him to go all out like this in the coliseum, but oftentimes it triggers many of the other gods’ delicate sensibilities and they would just leave. He tossed Hermes against the wall of the cave and battered him a few more times. He raised his weapon high above his head, wondering how quickly the god would recover from a skull that was smashed in, when a searing heat consumed him.

Of course. Apollo always comes in to rescue Hermes, so much so that none of the gods take him seriously any more when he complains about the little brat. Clearly, this little brat is actually the favorite of the sun god.

Which is fine with Ares because Apollo has always been a better challenger. The war god turned his full attention to his other brother. He squinted through the flames that Apollo hurled and then threw his hammer at the chariot, smashing it into pieces. He’s not sure when, but at some point, Apollo stopped working on his actual skill as a warrior and turned to more refined arts, relying on chariots and horses and magic fireballs. Since then Apollo ceased to be anywhere near his equal; some days, he even wished Artemis had any desire to step into the ring.

Not that his brother listened to him. But maybe this time he would, Ares thought as he brought down Apollo with another mighty swing of his weapon. To his surprise it was basically a one-blow knock out. He grunted in disappointment as he picked up Apollo’s limp body and dumped it into the sea, the two of them had almost fared better in the coliseum.

* * *

Hermes groaned and coughed up blood. On a beach far from the battle he heaved steadily, allowing his body to heal. More than anything he was embarrassed with how quickly he’d been defeated. He didn’t even land any blows! And now Hera has made off with his gauntlet. Toward what end he knew not, but he needed to find Father and tell him. The gauntlet was powerful, and in Hera’s hands, all sorts of mayhem could be caused.

He wiped his mouth, breath returning more normally as his body knit itself back together. He readied to run again but a cold voice stopped him.

“Not quite, brother,” Ares said as the god of war emerged from his own invisibility.

Hermes glared, “you idiot, she took my gauntlet, did you know she was going to do that?”

Ares simply shrugged, allowing his hammer to drop with a deadening thud on the ground, “not my business what Mother decides to do, she’s always been creative at vengeance.”

Hermes shouted, “you’re a fool then! Do you know what kind of power she controls with my gauntlet?”

Ares blankly stared at him. Hermes took in a deep breath, “I don’t have time for this.”

In a second, wings sprout from his sandals. But somehow, a microsecond later, he felt a sharp thrust. He gasped in pain and then looked up to see his brother’s twisted grin.

“I’ve spent quite some time training to get around your speed, little brother, you should do as much with my strength, then next time you won’t end up with this predicament.”

Hermes’ eyes widen as he saw that the hammer was a ploy. Instead, Ares had drawn a dagger, something he’d never seen his brother wield. Light enough to aid in a speed attack that even he barely registered. And now, he looked down to see the blade having gone cleanly through the wings of his sandals and both his ankles, pinning them all together like a neat brochette. Blood spilled freely from the wound, and once again the sands were wet around him.

“Mother needs a bit more time for whatever she’s planning,” Ares calmly explained as he took another dagger and pierced it through both Hermes’ hands while the other screamed in pain.

“So… I can’t let you flit off so easily this time,” Ares continued as he tied the other god’s limbs back behind him. Hermes glared at him as he stood up to examine his handiwork. Ares picks up his hammer again.

“I’d bash you up a few times, too, but I’m feeling pretty satiated right now, how about you?” Ares mocked, cocking his head to the side.

Hermes spit at him, “you motherfucker!”

Ares just chuckled, “careful, remember all that anger just… fuels me up.”

Hermes silently fumed as Ares disappeared into smoke, laughing as he goes.

* * *

Her nails tapped angrily on the marble as she registers her displeasure.

“That wasn’t enough time! I barely got one strike in before that bastard son of his showed up!” Hera fumed.

Around the room, a wind picked up and vases shuddered where they sat. The floor began to tremble and the columns quaked. Dust began to fall like an ominous snow from the heights of the temple where it had gathered in anticipation.

Hera lifted her hand, and briefly admired the gauntlet newly acquired before squeezing her fist, her own nails digging into her palm and drawing blood that flowed down her arm in a warm, pulsating stream.

As she tightened her fist the man in front of her coughed as he felt his body lifted up, and his insides crushed by her indomitable will.

She slowly walked up to him and leaned in close, using her other hand to pinch his cheeks and demand his attention. Ares looked at her, saw the unending rage again, but nothing would quell it. He feared if he even tried, it would swallow even the god of war himself.

She slapped him and sent him crashing into the temple wall, knocking several columns loose in the process.

He hacked painfully, clearing his lungs of the debris. He looked up and saw her pacing dangerously toward him again.

“Didn’t I tell you to get the damn brood off my back?” she screeched.

Ares said nothing, just watched and waited as his body painfully healed. He grimaced with the pain but continued to remain quiet.

“What will it take for you to actually kill the damn boy?” she demanded.

Ares looked at her passively. As the god of war, he knew better than anyone else how to contain and channel his anger. And though her careless comment sparked his ire, he knew she would bring the whole temple down on his head if he showed a hint of it. So he simply gazed, without expression, without judgment.

The two of them stared at each other. Him, still partially in the rubble, chest slowly heaving as his injuries gradually healed. Her, floating above him now, chest rising quickly as she filled the room with her power. Outside he could hear the crows cawing, egging her on.

They continued for a few moments like that, before Ares felt a cool breeze drift through the space between them (he thought for a moment he smelled a bouquet of flowers with it, a hallmark of his favorite aunt). As it left it seemingly took her emotions with it. Hera lowered herself to the ground.

“I know, you’ll never actually go through with killing them,” she sighed, her back turned to him, more musing to herself than anything.

“It won’t matter. This time it won’t just be the two of us. I have talked to many of the gods who feel that Zeus has flaunted his rules for far too long. This time, there will be a reckoning.”

She turned her head to the side, so that he could just see the glowing of her eyes. “And when the dust clears, we’ll see who ends up the victor.”

* * *

Ares actually thinks this time it may be his mother who wins. Even he is fearful of the giants that surround them as they march on Olympus. Many of the gods and demigods here have no memory of the war. It was easy for them to side with her. But he is surprised the older ones did as well. He supposes they have ulterior motives of their own. Aphrodite, for instance, probably just sees this as yet another opportunity to rid herself of Hephaestus.

Ares is pretty sure the gods will all lose in the end. If his mother were anywhere in earshot, and had he had the courage to tell her this before she summoned them back into this plane of existence, he may have screamed a “told you so” back at her when the giant attacked him from behind.

He picked himself off the ground and turned just in time to see its pincer-like leg bearing down on him. Maybe he could bring his arms up to stop the blow, but it was more than likely that it would deal a severe, quite possibly mortal blow.

A moment later, he found himself whisked to safety; and now he was on the receiving end of the “told you so” as he saw Hermes smirking at him. Neither of them had a chance to open their mouths to say anything, before Hermes was lifted up by another giant.

Ares growled as he raised his hammer to go on the offensive. He didn’t spare Hermes’ life just to now let him get killed by this thing. He launched himself and landed a solid blow on the giant’s tentacle slowly squeezing the life out of Hermes. Fortunately, the tentacle snapped. Unfortunately, another one picked up Hermes before the god could speed off, and yet another one swatted Ares aside like a fly.

When he looked up again, he saw another tentacle headed toward him, fended off by Apollo, who threw a fireball that burned it to a crisp. But another moment later, and Apollo was now in trouble, slowly being absorbed into one of the giants via its disgustingly acidic wings.

Ares stood up again. From the corner of his eye he saw his uncle Poseidon get attacked brutally as well. The gods were losing. It was no time to think. This was the time to let go. He un-stoppered the rage that he’d been collecting and brewing inside for millennia, his eyes glowed black, and he charged.

* * *

In the end, to his great surprise, it’s the mortal who wins them the war. Perhaps Father’s final victory, he thought. The three brothers are rebuilding the coliseum when they sense the mortal beginning to awaken. Definitely a spark that feels Zeus-like.

Apollo paused for a moment, “want to check on the kid?”

Ares grunted, “unlikely he would be very happy to see me.”

Hermes scoffed, “I’m pretty sure he doesn’t even know who you are. He doesn’t seem very well-acquainted in general.”

Still Ares murmured another time, and returned to lifting a large column over his head to move to its proper placement.

“Ok suit yourself!” Apollo called as he and Hermes walked toward the houses of healing.

When they leave, once again he is alone in his work. Only a few other gods are working on the coliseum, more minor deities, all of whom had sided with Zeus. He could feel their displeasure at him. Not that it bothered him. They were immortals, after all; in a moment it would pass and be good again. In another moment, another war might come. Such things could only be left to the Fates.

He looked off into the distance and wondered where his Mother had gone. They hadn’t found a body, and all of them would sense it if Hera had died. An Olympian of the pantheon, let alone their queen, didn’t just simply die off. And for that reason, he was proud, actually, that his father, in his last moment, had used the power of his death to save a woman he rarely honored in life.

No doubt she was healing more than her body, more than her pride, but her heart, too. No matter what Apollo said, he knew that Hera still loved Zeus a great deal, even if vengeance clouded her emotions from herself. With that thought, he happened to spot Aphrodite in the distance; she was working with Demeter on some of the fields.

He wondered if he would ever be married. How he would be as a husband, or possibly even as a father. Not that he was in any hurry. No goddess beyond Aphrodite had captured his attention and he was certain she was fickle enough that their relationship end up just like his parents’, but with opposite roles. Perhaps he would chase a mortal. Unlikely; he probably spent the least amount of time of all the gods gazing down from the heavens onto earth. Besides, he was already too acquainted with morals, being drawn down in spirit in every battle, fueling their anger and letting their rage empower him in return.

For now, he would continue being a good son, even if the only parent at the moment was his own sense of honor and morality. And he would continue being a good brother. Maybe he would introduce himself to the mortal runt at some point. Teach him a thing or two about how to properly fight. Heaven forbid the task be left to Apollo.

He slowly set down another column that he’d been moving. The coliseum looked almost back to its original form. He looked around him and breathed in the scent of the arena. Of blood and pain, but also the scent of iron and victory. The two were in balance, two sides of the same drachma. Those who sought only one were forever foiled, because the other surely followed. This he understood better than most, as god of war.

The last rays of the setting sun reflected off the new, gleaming statue of Zeus. At the tip of its golden finger, Ares’ keen eyes spotted a small black crow. He smiled, and returned to work.


End file.
